Harry Potter and the Hero Complex
by OLDOLDOLD
Summary: A very confused Harry finds himself inside of a childhood memory. Only he isn't just watching it, he's living it! Will Harry try to change the past, despite all the warnings he's gotten about time travel? Can he do it without messing every thing up?
1. Going Back

EDIT #2 :)

_Harry nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss. He stood up, and Dumbledore did the same, and they looked for a long moment into each other's faces. – _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Harry sighed, realizing it was time for him to go back where he was needed. He was about to ask how he was supposed to get back down there when something glowing and silver caught Harry's eye over Dumbledore's shoulder. It seemed to be a very large stone pensieve, and there was a memory already swirling around inside of it.

"Well that's random." Harry stated, and he walked over to the large glowing basin marked with ancient ruin symbols that even Hermione probably wouldn't understand. "Is this going to take me back, then?" He asked Dumbledore, who raised a bushy gray eyebrow.

"You see something, Harry? Rather odd that it should only be visible to you…" Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully, and Harry looked up from the silver swirls in surprise.

"So you can't see the pensieve?" He asked the old Headmaster in confusion. "Why not?" The last time he could see something others could not had been the situation with the thestrals. Of course Luna had been able to see them too, which hadn't been exactly comforting considering the many rumors questioning her sanity.

"I haven't the slightest idea, Harry." Dumbledore said peacefully, looking like he had no need for an explanation of any kind as to the reason for the pensieve being there. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes at the carefree old codger behind him. Then again, why should Dumbledore care? He _was_ already dead, what did he have to lose?

"I wonder whose memory is in here…" Harry wondered aloud, and the second he felt the need for one Harry found a thin wooden stick in his hand. Harry began to stir the liquid silver around in circles until something similar to steam rose up and shaped itself into what looked like a frightened primary schooler running. There was something oddly familiar about the tiny child, who was extremely thin but wore clothes that hung off his body like elephants skin. Round glasses bounced around on the boy's nose as he ran, and Harry leaned in to get a closer look at the boys face. The realization of who the boy was hit him about the same time as the person behind him in the hooded black cloak did, and Harry did a nose dive into the memory.

* * *

Harry landed flat on his face, hitting the pavement much harder that he would have liked. Well, he would have much preferred not to have hit it at all actually. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees slowly and was struck by how ridiculously tiny he was, finding himself in an oversized shirt that fluttered around his thin torso in the wind, and baggy jeans that were rolled up about six times.

"There he is, get him!" He heard a high pitched voice shout from behind him. He turned and saw a small gang of children, who looked even younger than the first years at Hogwarts were racing towards him at full speed. Harry immediately recognized the heaviest one as his elder cousin, Dudley Dursley. He then decided that it was probably in his best interest to haul ass out of there before the little kids decided to get violent, so he quickly jumped to his feet and ran as fast as his little feet would carry him. He sprinted down the sidewalk and turned a corner, racing onto a primary school playground full of small children. He had faced Voldemort for Merlin's sake! Why should he run from a gang of midgets?

Harry sighed in annoyance, realizing he had no right to call anyone a midget now. He shot a look back over his shoulder, which caused him to nearly run over a small girl with blonde pig tails and a pink chalk in her hand. She squealed as he brushed past her, gravel flying in his wake.

"Sorry!" Harry called without even a backwards glance. He began to tire out, feeling his legs rapidly turning to jelly beneath him and rough breaths escaped his throat. Suddenly Harry remembered his old technique from back when Dudley would try and beat him up in a burst of last minute survival instincts; If you can't outrun him, find a place to hide. His salvation around Private Drive had always been the tall trees that were scattered across the whole neighborhood because he was able to nimbly scramble up onto the utmost top branches, while fat little Dudley would be stuck at the base.

Harry quickly scanned the area, and though he found no climbable trees he did spot a cluster of dumpster's right around the corner. He dashed behind one of the smelly monstrosities and crouched down, listening for approaching footsteps. There was a shuffle of gravel a few feet from his hiding place and a grunt of annoyance from what Harry suspected was Dudley.

"Where'd you think he went?" Wondered a high-pitched voice, and he couldn't contain a small snicker at the prepubescent squeak. Harry immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, but the gang had already begun to run towards him.

"He's over there!" the squeaky boy cried, and Harry darted out from his hiding spot and looped around to head back towards the playground, still partly unsure of why he felt the need to run at all. Dudley and his band of future criminals finally caught on and began to tail him, their round childish faces leering at him from behind. As a last attempt to lose them, Harry plunged straight into the mob of children at play and tried to keep from stepping on anyone. Just when he had thought he was home free, Harry felt something grab him by the collar of his shirt and was held back in a suffocating grip.

"What on Earth do you think you are doing, child? You can't just go plowing into every one; somebody is going to get hurt! Explain yourself!" a stern looking woman shrieked in his ear, glaring down at him. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but his tongue was like sandpaper in his mouth and he felt his throat closing up from apprehension. Dudley marched towards them from the crowd looking vindictive, and Harry grimaced.

"Excuse me Mrs. Rodney," said Dudley in an annoyingly posh voice. "He's running away from me because he stole my… my…" Dudley's beady eyes landed on a pen tucked in the front pocket of Harry's shirt. "My pen! He stole my pen."

The overweight woman reached into Harry's pocket and plucked the pen out, handing it to Dudley while Harry openly gaped at her. Where was the justice in this situation? The old bat hadn't even asked his side of the story, she'd just taken what was his and fed it to mini Moby Dick over there with no proof at all!

"That was my pen! You're just going to believe him?" Harry cried out angrily. The woman looked down her nose at him, her eyes narrowed.

"Well, you're the one with the record, Mister. I think we'll just have to call in your Aunt and Uncle to see what they think about your outrageous behavior!" Harry, despite not being afraid of the Dursleys in the least, felt an odd nervous sensation in the pit of his stomach, and his face burned with humiliation. He threw a heated glare at Dudley, who just smirked as he was dragged away to have a chat with the Principal.

When they entered the office, Harry vaguely recognized the Principal as Mr. Thomas. He was a short, balding man who always wore strange and mismatched outfits that annoyed Uncle Vernon to no end, which was always the upside to him getting in trouble. Mr. Thomas stared at Harry with a smile that seemed more like a grimace pasted on his round little face in a failing attempt to seem nice.

Harry sat in the chair across from his principal, looking all the little delinquent they thought him to be. He slouched in his chair and arms crossed while glaring at the wall and pretending to pout, when he was really just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. How had he gotten here, so far back in time? And was it going to be permanent, or was he just dillusional? Maybe he'd finally cracked, gone over the deep end. What if he was dead? Harry felt this must surely be hell, to be stuck back in the days of Dudleys favorite game "Lets beat Harry until he bleeds". A sharp rap on the door brought him back to reality, and a pretty woman in a gray suit poked her head into the room.

"Mr. Thomas, the Dursley's are here."Mr. Thomas smiled at her a bit too friendly, flashing a small wink that made Harry cringe.

"Thank you Laura, send them in." He called in a superior voice, to which she simply nodded. The door opened wider and Uncle Vernon stormed into the room in all his red faced, temple throbbing glory. Aunt Petunia who was looking very annoyed followed him in, and Harry suspected he had interrupted her cleaning the already spotless house that he so hated. She spotted him and wrinkled her nose in distaste, her beady eyes conveying how much trouble he was in.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. Please, take a seat." Mr. Thomas offered and they did, but Harry could have sworn he saw his Uncles eye twitch as he surveyed Mr. Thomas' unordinary wardrobe. "I assume you both know why you're here?"

At that, the Dursleys eyes flickered to him, and Harry sunk a few inches into his chair.

"What did he do?" Aunt Petunia asked sharply, turning back to Mr. Thomas. Uncle Vernon turned back to him as well but a bit reluctantly, as if his outrageous outfit was physically hurting him to look at. Mr. Thomas cleared his throat, and steepled his fingers in a Dumbledore-ish fashion, which made Harry ache for Hogwarts.

"Apparently he was running amuck outside on the playground, after stealing your son Dudley's pen, and nearly injured quite a few children in the process. If it wasn't the last day of school, I'd probably already written him up for it. We all know this isn't the first time something like this has happened." He turned his stern gaze onto Harry, who hardly noticed.

The last day of school? Harry thought back to what Dudley had looked like, and determined that he wasn't quite too wide for a doorway yet, but he was getting close. Harry guessed Dudley was about 12 give or take a few months, which meant Harry himself was almost 11. If this was the last day of school, then he'd just have to survive the summer with the Dursleys and he could go to Hogwarts and explain what happened to Dumbledore. Surely Dumbledore could find a way to get him back home. Home… where many of his friends had died at the hand of Voldemort. Home, where he was in the middle of a war. Home, where everything was screwed up and so many families had been destroyed. Fred's empty eyes flashed before him and Harry felt an idea beginning to form. Maybe…

Right then and there, he made up his mind. Harry wasn't sure how long he was going to be here, but no matter how painful or difficult it would be he would save as many innocent lives that he possibly could. Hermione's voice echoed in his head. "… you can't save everyone, Harry…"

Well he'd be damned if he couldn't try.

"Get in the car, boy. Come on, be quick about it!" Mr. Dursley snarled, and Harry snatched his foot out of the way a second before it slammed shut. Dudley chortled next to him, waiting excitedly for more of his father's blatant abuse towards Harry. The young wizard smiled grimly to himself, mentally noting not to save him from the Dementors.

"Boy," his Uncle started with a shaking voice. "When we get back home, you are to go to your cupboard. You will not be leaving it for the next week. No dinner, one bathroom break a day, and NO funny business." Dudley smirked at him from his seat, his beady eyes glowing with happiness as he played with Harry's pen. At that moment, something in Harry cracked. He had already gone through 16 years of Hell with those damn Dursleys, and there was no way he was going to do it all over again. Harry wouldn't be going to the cupboard, not today and not EVER. He cleared his throat loudly as his Uncle crossed over onto the highway.

"No." The car swerved, and Harry clutched his seat before going on. "I've had enough Dursley, I'm done with living in a cupboard. I'm done being beat up by your morbidly obese son, and I'm done with you. I won't be sticking around for much longer, so no need to tell me about Hogwarts. Oh and thanks, by the way, for lying about how my Parents died. That was pretty cool of you guys." Aunt Petunia gasped loudly, her horse like face going white as she stared at him accusingly.

"How… who told… about-" Harry smirked at her.

"How do I know I'm a wizard?" The knuckles of the bony hand clutching Aunt Petunia's seat belt turned white, and Dudley looked at Harry confusedly, probably thinking he'd gone completely bonkers.

"I WILL NOT HAVE TALK OF THOSE _FREAKS _IN MY CAR!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, his whole face turning an ugly shade of purple. They skidded into the driveway of number four Private Drive, and Uncle Vernon told Aunt Petunia and Dudley to stay in the car, his voice shaking with rage. He got out, opened Harry's door and hauled him off his seat.

"You'd thought you would get away with this, didn't you? Not on MY watch." His Uncle sneered at him, and Harry's heart leaped up into his throat as he struggled to get away. Was Uncle Vernon going to _beat_ him? Harry knew that his Uncle had no problem breaking the law when it came to Harry, for he had proven it time and time again, but this was a little extreme! Had Harry truly pushed Vernon Dursley over the limit this time? Uncle Vernon flung the front door open so hard that one of the panels of glass at the top fell out and shattered, which only seemed to fuel his Uncles anger. He lobbed his tiny nephew down the hall, where Harry slammed his head on a side table and nearly blacked out from the sudden sharp pain.

"Think you can come into MY house, and infect MY family with all your freakiness, eh?" If there was anything Harry had learned from all his battles with Voldemort, it was how to be sarcastic at all the wrong times.

"You realize you're the one who just forced me into your house, don't you? Or is your pea sized brain having trouble comprehending that?" Uncle Vernon's face contorted with rage, and he picked up the extremely underweight Harry with ease, holding him up by the front of his shirt. Harry stared him down, looking much braver than he felt as he dangled there in his Psycho Uncles meaty hand.

"Don't insult me, boy. I can snap your neck right now if I want to." Dursley said menacingly. his angry spittle flying into Harry's sneering face. Harry could easily see through the threat, knowing there was no way his Uncle would do something so radical. _Normal_ people didn't snap their orphan Nephews neck. Of course, they didn't lock their Nephews in cupboards, either.

"I know you won't though. _You_ know you won't, no matter how much you want to. You're too scared to kill me Dursley. Too scared that '_My Lot' _will come back for you, huh?" Uncle Vernon's hand tightened and he drew the other one back, preparing to strike. The first punch landed hard into Harry's stomach, and pain shot up his spine but he restrained from crying out in pain. His resistance against admitting he was in pain ended as the first hit was followed by another, and another, some landing on his face and others in the stomach or other parts of his body; Everything his Uncle could reach was pounded into.

Harry was once again flung across the room like a rag doll, and he cried out as his frail body slammed into the opposite wall. His vision was blurry and everything ached, but Harry swore he would never again give in to Vernon Dursley. He stood slowly, taking deep painful breaths that echoed through his ribs, his clothes stained a frightful red.

"I hope you enjoyed this," Harry slurred vindictively. "Because as soon as they find out, you're done for. Think about that while you wait like a frightened little girl in your bed." He stretched his mouth into a bloody smile, then the broken child then used every bit of magic in his body and focused on his favorite place in the world.


	2. Home

_Edit: Thank you __Sylkie!_

…………………………………

There was a warm blanket around him, and a cool breeze blowing across his exposed face. He turned his head slightly, and a wet cloth slipped down his forehead to rest at his nose. Did he make it? He realized that the only way to find out would to be to open his eyes, but they felt really good closed.

"Are you… awake?" Someone said quietly, as to not disturb him if he wasn't. He smiled slightly. Where did he know that voice?

"Yeah." There was a small gasp from the person in the room. Harry suspected it was a girl, and a young one too by the sound of it.

"O… Ok, I'll get Mum." Harry's eyes flashed open, and he sat up quickly to see a small red haired girl looking him over nervously. It was Ginny Weasley. She jumped back; surprised at the sudden movement while Harry grasped his stomach and began to wish he hadn't done it.

"Wait." He plead. She did, standing there and staring at him, her brown eyes young and bright. He decided to play dumb. "Where am I?" She bit her lip cutely, trying to answer his question correctly, he supposed.

"Well you're at my house, which is called the Burrow, but I don't know how you got here because you just appeared out of nowhere all bloody and dead looking and stuff." She blushed slightly at her impromptu explanation, waiting for him to say something.

"Oh." He said, completely at a loss for words while he stared back at the girl he sorta kinda liked. Ok, really liked. All right, he was totally and completely in love with the girl. So he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Your pretty." She blushed bright red and murmured thanks while looking at her feet, obviously having no idea how to respond. But it was true; Harry could see the beautiful woman this young girl would become. He smiled slightly at her beet red face, liking the way she reacted.

"And you're cute when you blush." She turned a brighter red, but smiled slightly at him.

"What's your name?" She asked shyly, and Harry cringed. They hadn't noticed his scar yet? He was going to have to fake himself out of this future chaos. He reached out a hand.

"My names- ouch!" he yanked his arm back a second after she had touched him, and grabbed his side. Ginny's eyes widened, as she frantically apologized.

"I'm so sorry, are you ok? Did I hurt you? Here, I'll get Mum; she'll know what to do! I'm sorry, really!" She dashed from the room, and Harry heard her running down the stairs. He felt a bit guilty for tricking her, but smiled all the same.

No less than 15 seconds later, quite a few footsteps were making there way up the stairs, and Harry hurried to make himself look like he was in pain, which was easier than he liked. Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room, a look of worry on her face.

"Are you alright, dear? Where does it hurt?" Harry gave a small groan, fighting the ecstatic feeling of seeing his surrogate mother once again, before the loss of her children and their miscellaneous body parts had stained her usually happy and loving face.

"My stomach, Miss." He glanced over at the door, and saw seven red heads peeking in and starring at him curiously. Ginny seemed the most worried and he gave her a small smile, which she returned.

Mrs. Weasley tugged his shirt up, exposing many purpling bruises, and a chorus of 8 gasps echoed around him. Harry merely stared at his stomach curiously then lightly poked one of the bruises, wincing slightly.

"What," Mrs. Weasley started tremulously as her eyes filled with tears. "What happened to you?" Harry turned is head away from them, feeling embarrassed.

"I… fell?" He tried to lie, knowing how stupid he sounded. A tear landed on his stomach, and Harry sighed in dejection. Mrs. Weasley was crying because of him; because he was too weak to stand up to a stupid muggle. He looked back up at her, smiling sadly.

"Please don't cry, Miss. I'm not worth it." Mrs. Weasleys tears began to fall heavier, and Harry cursed himself. He wasn't good with criers, and Mrs. Weasley was defiantly a crier. He looked back over at the door, and saw a tear run down Ginny's face. Ginny wasn't a crier. Maybe he just had some special power to make people miserable.

"Really, I've had worse." Oops, that wasn't smart. Mrs. Weasley put her face in her hands, and another tear made its way down Ginny's face. All the Weasley boys were looking quite subdued, staring sadly at Harry's stomach. He tugged his shirt back down, ignoring the stabbing pain in his arm.

"Was it your family?" Ginny asked quietly. She was just smart like that, always knowing things and stuff. She was the smarted, prettiest, most wonderful person in the world. But he hated her for asking that. Because he knew his face would give him away. He knew that they would know how weak he was, how stupid.

Mrs. Weasley looked up, wiping her face. She stared at him. Ginny stared at him. Charlie, Ron, Percy, Fred, and George stared at him. And they knew. They knew his family had abused him and that he was too weak… too pitifully weak to stop it.

"We need to get you to Saint Mungo's…" Mrs. Weasley murmured sadly, staring at his stomach. Then Harry remembered he wasn't supposed to know about magic.

"What is Saint Mungo's, Miss?" Mrs. Weasley looked up sharply, her eyes worried.

"You don't know?" Harry shook his head. Mrs. Weasley stared at him, most likely trying to figure out what to do with a muggle child. "What's your name Dear?" She asked him tersely and he bit his lip. He really didn't want to be treated like a celebrity, especially by the Weasleys.

"Harry…" Harry held his breath, hoping she wouldn't ask for-

"Surname?" She asked him, one eyebrow raised. He sighed in annoyance.

"…Potter." There was another series of gasps. At least they wouldn't think of him as some undefeated hero or something, when he lay here bruised and beaten by his muggle uncle. He'd just be a_ tragic_ hero. Phooey.

"Harry…" He looked up at Mrs. Weasley, who spoke carefully. She seemed unsure of herself, as if she thought it wasn't her place to say. "Do you… believe in magic?" He hesitated, before shrugging. Mrs. Weasley struggled for words.

"I don't believe I should be the one telling you this… but you're going to find out in a couple months anyways. I suppose…" Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"…Miss?" Mrs. Weasley sighed, rubbing her temples. She looked up at him, her face very serious.

"You're a wizard, Harry." Harry stared at her, and then surprised everyone with his reaction.

"Oh, that's good." Ginny giggled slightly over by the door, and Mrs. Weasley furrowed her eyebrows.

"Aren't you surprised at all?" Harry smiled at her, wanting very much to laugh at her expression.

"Yes, very. But if I am correct in assuming that Saint Mungo's is a hospital of some kind, I just want you to know that there is no need for me to go there. I really am ok, just some bruises." Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips.

"I think I'll be the judge of that." She said looking him up and down, and he blushed. "Shirt off please." He immediately began taking off his shirt, and Ginny looked torn between staying to see if he was ok, and giving him some privacy. Mrs. Weasley ended her internal argument by shooing them all away.

She began by pressing down on the spots Harry knew must be his ribs, though they weren't so hard to find on his frail body. None were especially painful, which surprised Harry since he was positive at least 2 had cracked.

"Arms out." Harry put his arms out like a plane, and he felt his muscles cramp painfully, but worked to keep his face blank. Mrs. Weasley slowly pushed his arms up until they were raised above his head, then went back down to his sides slowly.

"Turn you head to the left." He did. "Now the right." He turned it again, and wasn't able to hold back a wince. Mrs. Weasley slid her hands behind his head, feeling for any bumps or bruises. Finally she pushed on the spot Harry's head had hit the side table, and he gasped quietly.

"Owwie…" He said, a slight grin on his face, but Mrs. Weasley looked completely serious.

"Turn, please." She said brusquely. He did so carefully, trying not to twist his midsection too much. She looked through his mass of hair, and tisked at the messiness of it. "Lumos." He heard from behind him, and a bit of light made it past his head and glowed on the headboard of the bed.

"This isn't pretty, Harry." He rolled his eyes, glad that she couldn't see his face.

"I didn't think it would be." There was a knock at the door, and Percy peeked in nervously.

"Mum," He said animatedly. "Professor Dumbledore's here."

…………………………………

Harry lay restlessly in Ron's bed, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to come back. She had left him to go downstairs to meet with Dumbledore, and Harry was dying to know what they were saying. A quiet tap on the door interrupted his agitated thoughts, and all was forgotten when little Ginny Weasley poked her head in the door.

"Hey H- Harry…" She stuttered nervously, shyly stumbling towards the edge of the bed and Harry sighed in annoyance. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. He knew he was going to have to do something drastic to get her out of this awkward/shy faze. He sat up weakly.

"Hey, I was hoping you would come back." He smiled, looking down at the blankets covering him with false nervousness. She stared at him in confusion, cocking her head to the side.

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry shrugged sadly, really pouring it on thick.

"Well, I didn't know if you would think I was a freak or something." He said, looking up with his best puppy dog eyes. "That's why they hate me… because I'm a useless freak." Ginny gasped, her eyes burning with anger and sadness.

"No Harry, never say that! You're not a freak at all! I never want to hear that word come out of your mouth again, you understand?" He looked down and wiped his dry eyes, then looked back up at Ginny's horrified face.

"But, that's what Uncle Vernon said. He said I'm a freak… just like my Parents." Ginny's jaw clenched, and Harry worried that he had taken it too far.

At first she looked ready to kill with her fist balled up tight. Then tears were flowing down her cheeks and she crumpled on the end of Ron's bed, holding her face in her hands. Harry panicked, and immediately felt horrible and ignoring the stabs of pain in his stomach as he fumbled awkwardly to the end of the bed to console her.

"Oh, Ginny please don't cry!" Harry pleaded shamelessly, prying her hands from her face. "I'm sorry, don't cry. Please stop crying, please! I'll do anything; just don't cry because of me!" He begged her, wiping her cheeks with his hands desperately. If there was one thing he hated more than Voldemort, it was when girls cried. She slowly looked up at him, her eyes red and watery.

"How… how do you know my name?" Harry froze, backtracking to their first conversation. She had never told him her name, yet he had just called her Ginny.

"Uhhhh… I think your mom told me." He lied poorly, his face burning with embarrassment. She stared at him bemused, wiping her face.

"You think?" She said looking dubious. Harry nodded, then abruptly changed the subject.

"Are you done crying? I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have said that." Ginny shook her head, staring down at Ron's bed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You should be the one crying, not me. All these horrible things happened to you, and I'm over here blubbering like I even have something to cry about." Harry smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Well, there are other kids in the world who've had it way worse than I have, so I have no reason to cry either. How about we both just smile instead." He suggested, and Ginny forced a small smile, making him laugh.

"That… was pitiful." He said with a disapproving frown. She gave him a huge fake grin, which slowly turned real as he burst into secretly painful laughter.

"Better?" she giggled. He nodded, giving her thumbs up.

"Perfect." They both laughed, and Harry stared at her with wonder. How did she make him so happy without even trying? He mentally cheered when he realized his plan to get her back to normal had worked, if not in the way he had thought. Hopefully it would last, because the whole star-struck thing was going to get old fast.

There was another tap on the door, which made him jump. A man with a long white beard and twinkly blue eyes stood in the doorway.

"Hello there, Harry." He said jovially. Harry stared at him, and he stared back looking completely carefree, despite the fact that he knew Harry had just been beaten senseless by his muggle Uncle and then somehow appeared in a random wizarding family's home. Harry smiled nostalgically. That was his Dumbledore alright.

"Hi. I like your beard." Harry said with a quirky grin. Dumbledore chuckled, then came and sat on the edge of the bed. Was it just him, or was this bed getting a little crowded?

"Why thank you, you have raised my self confidence immensely. I was worried it made me look a bit old…" Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, but then looked back at Harry with a more serious expression. "But I didn't come here to talk about facial hair with you Harry. How are you feeling?" Harry shrugged.

"Fine." He lied, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Really, I'm okay." The old Headmaster turned to Ginny and smiled apologetically.

"Miss Weasley, you may have to leave us for a moment if you don't mind." Ginny immediately stood in response, but Harry frowned and grabbed her hand.

"I don't want her to go." He said, his pleading eyes focused on her. Ginny looked uncertainly at Dumbledore while turning a light shade of pink, and Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well then. Harry, I need you to tell me exactly what happened when you acquired your injuries. Can you do that for me?" Harry grimaced, then with a sigh he began the sickening tale, editing out the _real _reason his Uncle had gotten so upset of course. Throughout the whole story, Harry stared down at his hands in embarrassment. Why had he been so stupid? He should have known better than to go and pick a fight with his psychotic Uncle when he had no way to fight back. His eyes began to burn, and he practically died with embarrassment when he realized he was crying. The whole room was silent when he finished, and he peeked up at Dumbledore from under his bangs. Dumbledore was staring at Harry with a look of complete serenity, but his eyes said something completely different.

"Thank you Harry. I know that was hard for you." He said, and his voice shook slightly. Harry glanced over at Ginny who was trying her best not to look completely horrified. Her hand was still clasped in his, and he squeezed it reassuringly. Mrs. Weasley was choking back sobs over by the door that made Harry groan internally.

"Yeah sure… but where do I go now?" He asked Dumbledore, hoping he would be allowed to stay at the Burrow. Dumbledore opened his mouth to answer, but Ginny got there first.

"You're staying here of course." She said matter-of-factly, and Harry felt a smile pushing at the corners of his mouth. She was already getting overly protective of him, he could feel it. It made his love for this little Ginny bubble in his stomach, and he wished he could just squeeze her tight and never let go. Of course he couldn't do that, but that didn't stop him from wishing it.

"Harry is very welcome to stay here, Albus… if that's alright with you." Mrs. Weasley acknowledged in a voice hoarse from crying. Ginny's hand tensed up in Harry's as she stared apprehensively at Dumbledore, and the old Headmaster smiled warmly at her.

"Well I don't see why not, he seems to have made quite the friend here. If this is what you want, Harry then-"

"It is." Harry cut him off quickly, an impish grin forming on his face. Everything was coming together quite nicely so far, besides the whole 'almost being beat to death' business. Ginny was practically glowing with happiness, and she smiled brightly at him. Dumbledore stood up, brushing off his midnight blue robes.

"Well I trust that you will be in good hands here, Harry." Dumbledore said, glancing at Ginny. "Oh, I almost forgot to give you this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brass key that Harry immediately recognized as his vault key, and tossed it to him. Harry caught it as it was about to soar right over his head, then cringed at the stab of pain from his arm in response, but refused to acknowledge the worried glance from Ginny.

"Thanks, sir." He said politely, and though he shouldn't know what it was, Dumbledore offered no explanation. Mrs. Weasley, who had finally put herself back together, walked with Dumbledore to the front door leaving him and Ginny alone.

"Well… welcome to the Burrow Harry." Ginny murmured, and he grinned. That sounded a lot more like 'welcome home' to him.


	3. Escape

_Sorry, I know it's late. I'm beta searching at the moment, anyone interested?_

Harry woke to a light tap on the door, and Charlie peeked into Ron's bright orange room uneasily.

"Good morning. I wasn't sure if you were awake yet." He said with a smile, walking in with a tray of food. Harry gasped theatrically, his hands on his cheeks.

"Breakfast in bed? Oh this is so romantic!" He cried, wiping a fake tear. Charlie laughed and rolled his eyes, but played along.

"You know I'd do anything for you baby." He said emotionlessly and Harry snorted, dropping the act. He threw Ron's covers off of him and slid off the bed, standing carefully so not to hurt his abdomen.

"Thanks, but this isn't necessary. I can go downstairs and eat at the table with you guys." He insisted, stretching his sore arms. He really was feeling a lot better today, he barely even felt any pain in his arms anymore, and his stomach only hurt half as bad as it did yesterday. He didn't take the tray off of Charlie's hands though, because he didn't want to risk dropping it all down the stairs. Charlie shrugged, and led him down the staircase.

"Mum's going to kill me for letting you out of bed, you know." Charlie muttered sourly, and Harry shrugged.

"Better you than me." He said unsympathetically, and then laughed at the dirty look Charlie gave him over his shoulder. As they reached the bottom floor of the Weasley domain, Harry could hear the laughter and voices of all the Weasley children and he soaked it in blissfully, missing the sound of happiness. Charlie led him though the living room and into the full kitchen, where all noises suddenly ceased.

"Harry! What on earth are you doing out of bed?" Mrs. Weasley cried, and she turned on Charlie who shrunk back from the accusing glare.

"I feel better." Harry said simply, and then grinned. He watched Mrs. Weasleys resolve disperse slowly, and she sighed.

"Alright Dear… just promise you won't over do it." She said submissively, and Harry smiled happily. He went and took the empty spot in between Ron and Fred, beaming at Ginny from across the table. The chatter resumed and Harry turned to his old/new friend Ronald Weasley.

"Hi," He said, sticking his hand out. "I'm Harry." Ron looked up at him slightly star struck, and took his hand.

"Ron." He said breathlessly, like he couldn't believe Harry Potter was sitting next to him, eating at his kitchen table. Harry grinned toothily at him, then picked up a piece of bacon and took a crunchy bite. His mouth exploded with flavor, and he realized just how hungry he really was. Even as he tried to pace himself so he wouldn't get sick later, he ate twice as much as anyone at the table, and was finished second only behind Ron.

"Mrs. Weasley, that was delicious. You are an amazing cook!" He praised, only sucking up a little. He wiped his fingers on his napkin and slumped in his chair. Suddenly he realized he should probably learn the names of all the Weasleys before he made the same mistake he had with Ginny with anyone else. "Umm, so what's everybody's name? I mean, I think you already know who I am." He said, sitting up in his chair.

"I'm Forge and that's Gred… I mean, that's George and I'm Fred." Fred said with a grin, and Harry laughed.

"I'm Percy Weasley, very nice to meet you Mr. Potter." Percy said in a very self-important voice, and Harry heard George imitating him under his breath while Fred snickered.

"Charlie." Charlie said simply, flashing him a small smile. Harry smiled back, and then looked at Ginny.

"Then there's Ginny," he said, then he turned to his right."And Ron." They both nodded in agreement.

"And we have another brother, Bill." Ron piped up. "But he's already graduated." Charlie cleared his throat loudly, and Ron quickly added, "Charlie's graduated too, he just won't leave." The whole table besides Charlie and Mrs. Weasley snickered, and Charlie rolled his eyes.

"I leave for Romania when the school year starts." He said, and his Mum beamed over at him.

"Charlie's going to be a Dragon Tamer!" Ginny exclaimed from across the table and Harry pretended to be amazed, remembering the way he'd reacted the first time.

"You're going to tame REAL DRAGONS?!" Harry exclaimed, and Charlie flushed proudly. Harry gaped at him openly for a few seconds, and then closed his mouth. "That's cool." He said nonchalantly, and smiling when the Weasley children laughed. He waited for everyone to finish before excusing himself, mainly because Ginny was the last one to be done.

"Hey, do you want to go play outside?" He asked her after she had cleaned her plate, and she nodded timidly and smiled. They walked side by side, not speaking until they reached the back door where Harry froze.

"What is it?" She asked, but Harry barely heard her, because he was staring at a cage that sat on top of a side table in the living room. Inside was a fat, old brown garden rat that was sleeping without a care in the world. Heat flashed up his spine, and he could hear his teeth grinding together loudly. He was brought back to earth at the sight of Ginny's worried face, making him take a deep breath and force a smile on his face.

"It's nothing, lets go." He murmured, stalking out the back door. Ginny trailed behind him confusedly, still wearing that worried expression. Harry pushed the damned rat from his mind, focusing only on Ginny and was surprised at how immediately he felt better. He pointed in the direction of the orchard that resided behind the tall wood fence lining the Weasleys yard. "Can we go exploring?" He questioned her innocently and she looked back at the house uncertainly, but nodded nonetheless.

"Yeah, sure." She complied, and she led him through the gate in the fence while looking closely at him. "Harry, are you okay?" She questioned him uneasily, and Harry smiled tenderly. She was just too cute when she worried about him like that.

"I'm fine, I promise. I'm just a little sore." He lied smoothly, but the worry didn't leave her face. They made their way through the orchard in silence, listening to the birds chirp and the wind rustle through the leaves. The trees were thinning, and eventually they reached a grassy hill covered in little dandelions and other weeds or flowers, Harry wasn't quite sure. "Want to rest here?" He asked Ginny, and she shrugged.

"Okay. I haven't ever gone this far into the woods before." She said, and she ran up the slope until she reached the top, then she stood there slightly awed. "Harry, come look at this!" Harry carefully made his way up the hill, and immediately understood why she was so amazed. From the top of the mound, you could see the rolling hills that went on for miles. "Isn't it gorgeous?" She said breathily, her eyes shining brightly.

"Not in comparison with you, it isn't." He replied cheesily, and she flushed scarlet. He laughed and plopped down on the dewy grass, patting the spot next to him for her to sit. She dropped down and stared out towards the hills, her blush fading slowly. "Hey Gin…" Harry murmured, then trailed off suddenly unsure of himself.

"Yeah?" She said, sounding surprised at the nickname. Harry turned and looked deep into her toffee colored eyes, and felt his insides squirming with apprehension.

"Umm… I know we've only known each other for two days, and during those two days I've made you cry about a billion times, but I just thought you should know that… I really like you. More than I've ever liked a girl." He confessed, hoping he wasn't overwhelming her too much. What he had just told her did not even graze the amount of affection he held for the beautiful red head sitting to his left. Harry had been careful to say 'a girl' to insure that she understood he wasn't talking about as a friend. She stared down at her hands, with her fiery red hair blocking her face from view. She cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"You did not make me cry a billion times." She replied defiantly, crossing her arms with a mock angry expression. Harry laughed, feeling stupid about previously harboring thoughts in which she would freak out and run away. Ginny's expression turned soft and her cheeks red, her eyes reverting back to the small hands that she rested in her lap. "And I like you too. I mean, I've heard stories about you ever since I was a little girl…" Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. It was like a slap in the face to hear that she only liked him for his fame and the heroic image of the overly exaggerated stories 'the-boy-who-lived', and he stood up abruptly.

"Well, if that's the only reason then-" He started angrily, his muscles tense and aching to run away. She cut him off with equal vigor, her eyes flashing irately.

"Perhaps if you would let me finish, you would know that I was going to say I'd heard stories about you since I was a little girl, but you're even more amazing than I'd ever thought was possible. Every time I see you I want to smile, and you look at me like I'm someone important and not just Ron or Percy or _whoever's_ little sister." She retorted, angry at first then slowly simmering down to embarrassment.

Harry stared at her astonished. It seemed he had miscalculated the amount of affection_ she_ held for_ him_. Could she really feel this way about him already? It took Harry at least six years to even notice her the first time around. He continued to stare at her, his heart suddenly feeling light as a feather beating away happily in his chest. They were both completely still, and Ginny seemed to be preparing for rejection. Finally Harry rejoined her on the slippery slope, leaning back on his hands nonchalantly.

"I knew you were madly in love with me." He said with a cocky grin, and Ginny's head whipped around so fast her hair slapped Harry in the face. She looked a mix between offended and mortified as she stuttered her denial, making Harry's grin widen. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt completely at ease.

* * *

Harry stared in shock at the moving black and white picture of Sirius Orion Black, looking oh so menacing with his crazed eyes and fists clenched on a numbered plate. It wasn't possible. He shouldn't have escaped until the Weasley's were in the Daily Prophet for winning some kind of lottery with the Ministry. Could Harry have possibly caused this much of a change by just the little he had done since his arrival in the past? He didn't think so, but what did he know? Harry had a nagging suspicion that his blissful break from reality was to be short lived.

He lifted his eyes from the frightening picture of his godfather, resting them on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's anxious faces. The whole Weasley family crowded around the distressing paper as Mr. Weasley read aloud the article on Sirius' escape.

_SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES ASKABAN_

_Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, suddenly disappeared from his cell on May 29__th__. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has reassured us that he has every available Auror on the case, and Black will soon be brought back into custody. He has warned us though that while Black is at large, everyone should remain very alert and keep their eyes open for any signs of danger. More information on the case will be released in Monday's issue of The Daily Prophet, along with __10 way to tell if someone is really a mass murderer in disguise__._

Mr. Weasley stopped there, looking seriously at each of their faces, his eyes lingering on Harry's for a moment then moving to the next face.

"This is a very serious issue, kids. Sirius Black is very dangerous, and he won't hesitate to hurt or kill any of you. Do you understand me?" He said in a grave voice. The Weasley children and Harry nodded silently, the formers looking both frightened and excited while the latter looked very confused and faintly happy. Harry was going to see his Godfather again, something he had given up all hope on. He would clear Sirius' name once and for all, and he knew exactly how to do it. Harry slowly looked up at the rat sleeping in its cage, his eyes narrowing deviously.


	4. Secrets

Sirius' escape from Azkaban put a stop to anymore of Harry and Ginny's rendezvous in the woods; in fact Harry was rarely even let outside anymore. He sat on the Weasleys rickety wooden stairs, completely numb with boredom while listening to Mr. Weasley and his eldest son Bill discuss every protection charm recorded in magical history over the Floo. The worst part was that Fred and George had noticed the way he and Ginny had been acting around each other and embarrassed the poor girl so bad that she barely even left her room at all anymore; forget actually spending time with Harry. In one swift move, those evil twins had erased all of the hard work Harry had put into getting close to Ginny and replaced it with an awkwardness that was even more prevalent than in his first life.

Most of his time was now spent stressing out about his Azkaban escapee Godfather, who had randomly disappeared off the map two years earlier than Harry had expected. He figured it must have been related to a change he'd caused by his arrival in the past, but wasn't quite sure how it was even possible when every change Harry had made so far didn't seem drastic enough to have such a large effect. He took a little comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one constantly harassed by thoughts of Sirius, Pettigrew was looking positively nauseating now that he was all skin and bones and missing random patches of fur. Harry had been present when Percy voiced his concerns about Scabbers to his Mum and offered to put the poor thing out of his misery for him, but Percy clutched the ugly creature to his chest looking scandalized and refused. The twins found it especially amusing, and would bring it up every time Scabbers was mentioned.

There was also the remaining issue of finding all of Voldemorts horcruxes as soon as possible, and then destroying them. How was he supposed to manage that when he needed such powerful things to carry it out? The thought of facing the Basilisk down in the Chamber of Secrets a second time was absolutely terrifying for Harry, so he decided not to linger long on that issue. He instead thought about a less important concern of his that went by the name of Ronald Weasley.

He and his past best friend didn't seem to be connecting like they had that first day on the train to Hogwarts, and Harry yearned for that unbreakable bond they shared throughout his school years. It was probably Harry's fault, seeing as he had spent the first week or two being all over Ginny instead of getting to know her brother. He wondered idly if his maturity affected him and Ron's relationship at all seeing as he was really a 17 year old boy/man on the inside, but pushed this thought away. Harry had always been more mature than Ron was, though he definitely made up for it with his recklessness which was commonly mistook as bravery.

Figuring that this was one worry he could actually do something about Harry tromped up the long staircase, stopping in front of Ron's familiar wooden door and raised his hand to knock. His fist remained there, air born for a few seconds until he let it drop in defeat. He was too nervous to even knock on his best friends' door! There was a creaking sound of weight being put on an old floorboard coming from behind him and Harry spun around quickly, his hand reaching towards his pocket for a wand that wasn't there. Fred and George stood in front of him, their identical eyebrows raised in surprise at his bizarre reaction.

"Jeez Harry, calm down!" George said looking taken aback. "It's not like we're going to attack you."Harry felt his face flushing with embarrassment as he muttered a quiet apology and turned to go back down the stairs to resume his numb boredom, but the twins seemed to have a different plan for him. They both put a hand on each of his shoulders to stop his advance, smiling in a way that would have been seen as pleasant if Harry hadn't known them as well as he did.

"Wait a minute, not so fast Mr. Potter." Fred said jovially. "My brother and I would like to have a word with you real quick, if you don't mind of course." His tone was casual, but Harry could sense the underlying danger in Fred's words.

"Well actually I-"He tried to refuse, but George cut him off cheerfully.

"Great! Let's go, shall we?" Harry was led up a few more stairs and into a room with a door labeled, very suitably so in his opinion, with a sign that read 'DANGER'. Fred and George's room was larger than Ron's was, and the walls weren't plastered with the Chuddley Canon's quiddich posters but Harry did notice that there seemed to be a surplus of Zonko products covering the desk and parts of the floor, along with an open copy of _Which Broomstick_.

"So, what's up?" Harry asked genuinely curious, turning his attention back to the twins. Fred heaved a giant sigh, a look of deep remorse plastered on his face.

"Well, you see Harry," He began seriously. "You've been here for, what? Three weeks now?" Harry nodded, unsure of where this was heading. George put a reassuring hand on Fred's shoulder and stared into Harry's eyes, his own glistening with unshed tears.

"Throughout the past weeks, Fred and I seem to have gotten very attached to you. You're like the little brother we didn't need but still ended up loving in the long run." George said gravely, and Harry couldn't hold back a snort. Fred sniffed loudly, wiping away a fake tear.

"So George and myself are very hurt, Harry. Very, very hurt." Fred's over dramatized words and repeated usage of the word very echoed in Harry's ears, and he tousled his hair nervously.

"I'm not sure wha-" He started only to be cut off again, this time by Fred.

"Harry, let me ask you this." He said suddenly serious. Both the twins leaned in towards him incisively, eyes narrowed. "Are you hiding something from us?" They asked him in simultaneous accusing voices. George jabbed a finger towards Harry's chest irritably.

"Because if you are," He began, and Fred finished for him with a foreboding expression. "We _will_ figure it out." Harry stood frozen, attempting to hide his disbelief at the allegation. He had thought he was doing so well at hiding his secret! Though apparently not well enough since the twins, whom Harry had spent very little time with, had noticed he was concealing something important from both the Weasley family as well as Dumbledore. Harry knew he couldn't possibly tell them the truth and had no reasonable lie, so he challenged them by simply smirking and looking far more confident than he felt. There was no way they would be able to fathom such a far-fetched truth on their own, so there would be no harm done.

"Then I guess its game on." He said cheekily. Fred and George looked at each other and then back at Harry, mischievous grins spreading across their faces.

"Excellent."

* * *

"Now this guy here, what he does is if there's anyone diagonal from him, he can attack. Like watch, see this guy?" Harry listened as Ron re-taught him everything there was to know about Wizards Chess, feeling quite accomplished. The day after his encounter with Fred and George, Harry had taken the initiative and asked Ron about things that wizards like to do. Now an hour later he and Ron were sitting at the living room table with various magical games spread across it including Exploding Snap and Gobstones. Ron had also pulled out his huge collection of chocolate frog cards to show him, and even gave him a starter for his very own collection.

Ron's twin brothers didn't waste any time trying to figure out what Harry was hiding, and every now and then he would spot one of them watching him from the kitchen, or peeking out from the staircase. He swore once he'd seen Fred holding a notepad and quill, writing notes that Harry suspected were about him. They were obviously taking his challenge very seriously, but Harry wouldn't have expected any less from the two ingenious pranksters. All the while, Ron went on with his very detailed explanation without noticing a thing.

"So, do you think you understand?" Ron asked, placing the queen back on the chess board carefully and Harry beamed at him happily.

"Yeah, let's have a go at it shall we?" He said brightly, adjusting his king so it was facing directly forward.

"Alright, let's do it mate," Ron said with a grin, probably knowing he would absolutely destroy Harry. "You can go first."

They played for about 15 minutes and just as Harry had predicted, Ron beat him so bad it was almost painful. He had just agreed to play another round when Mrs. Weasley bustled in with her arms full of groceries, ending their bonding time. Ron and Ginny were called to set the table for dinner and the elder boys were told to help put away groceries, while any offer of help from Harry was refused.

"Harry dear, your still injured." Mrs. Weasley reprimanded, ordering him back onto the couch. Harry attempted to convince her of his good health but she wouldn't hear it, and he eventually consented to waiting on the couch for dinner to be ready. A flash of blinding emerald green flames in the fire place startled him, and Mr. Weasley spun into view holding a small brown briefcase to his chest. He stepped out of the fireplace brushing the soot off his robes and adjusted his glasses fretfully, then sidestepped onto the living room carpet suddenly as if remembering last minute to move. The fireplace flashed green again and Harry watched with astonishment as one of his favorite Professors of all time, as well as an old friend of his parents stepped out onto the hearth. Just across the room stood a man once known as Moony wearing patched robes and a kind smile, soot settling in his sandy brown hair.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Remus Lupin. He's going to be staying with us for dinner." Mr. Weasley explained to him, and Harry shook himself awake.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you Mr. Lupin." Harry said politely, crossing the living room to shake his hand. Lupin smiled and shook Harry's hand, so small in comparison to his own. "We're having lamb chops." Lupin laughed lightly.

"You can call me Remus, and that sounds delicious." Harry grinned up at him, unable to hold back his euphoria at seeing his old Professor. The three of them walked into the kitchen where Mr. Weasley planted a kiss on Mrs. Weasleys cheek, set his suitcase down by his chair, and then re-introduced Lupin to everyone to the rest of the family.

After introductions were done, everyone found a place at the already overcrowded table where Harry had strategically placed himself directly across from Ginny so he could try and get her attention. He glanced up at her periodically through the dinner, then finally managed to catch her gaze once about halfway through. Predictably, Ginny immediately fixed her eyes back onto her plate with her cheeks flaming, something Harry would have found cute if he wasn't so annoyed at her avoidance of him. He chewed a little viciously on his broccoli, and then feeling he was being watched looked up to find Lupin smiling amusedly. Lupin glanced at Ginny then back at him with raised eyebrows, procuring a cheeky grin from Harry.

"She wants me." He mouthed to Lupin, who barely contained a snort of laughter. A much less fortunate Charlie had seen the interaction between Harry and Lupin while eating a lamb chop, and began to choke on it. He finally managed to spit it out, breathing heavily afterwards while most of the table was laughing hysterically.

"Charlie, you must remember to chew your food dear!" Mrs. Weasley cried in a panicked voice causing Charlie to glower at Harry over his plate.

"Yeah Charlie, you're not an animal." Fred reprimanded, waggling his finger at him. That sparked a deep discussion between the kids at the table of what animal they thought they would be that even Ginny participated in. After a four minute conversation about how Percy looked similar to an Orangutan, Harry looked up at Lupin sneakily and decided that this opportunity could not be passed up.

"Hmm, I think Remus would be… a wolf." He said with the most innocent expression he could muster. All three adults at the table froze, staring at Harry who continued to eat his dinner like nothing had happened. Finally Lupin came to his senses and ate the piece of broccoli that had frozen half way to his mouth.

"You think so?" he asked Harry. He sounded indifferent but his eyes were calculating, and Harry nodded. There was no noise except for the sound of Harry and Remus' nonchalant eating at the table that for a moment nobody seemed willing to break.

"I think he seems more like a rabbit." George commented casually, and the kids burst into fits of laughter while the adults were looking relieved. Fred then declared that Lupin's new name was now Fluffy, which caused another round of laughter that Harry joined in on. All the while Lupin just continued with his dinner, a small smile resting on his still rather young face.

After everyone had finished and the table was cleared, Mr. Weasley asked Harry to meet him and Lupin in the backyard. Harry trailed behind the two older men, laughing quietly to himself as he overheard Mrs. Weasley forbidding any of her children to call Lupin Fluffy. When they had made it to the backyard, Mr. Weasley turned to him with a solemn expression and closed the door.

"Harry, I've asked you out here so you can learn the reasoning behind Remus' visit. Now Molly disagrees, but we've decided its best you know what's going on, so you know to be on your guard and Remus offered to explain." Mr. Weasley rubbed the bridge of his nose stressfully, and then looked over his shoulder at Lupin. "I guess I'll just leave it to you then, Remus." Lupin nodded, and Mr. Weasley went back into the house leaving them alone.

"Why don't we take a seat, Harry?" He suggested, gesturing to a small patio table with a few mismatched chairs set around it. Harry agreed and they both took up a seat silently.

"So, what do you need to tell me?" Harry questioned curiously. He knew that they were about to have the Voldemort talk, though he was surprised that Remus would be the only one willing to explain. Remus sighed wearily, but a tiny smile played on his lips as he surveyed Harry.

"You know, you look remarkably like your father. Well, that is of course, except for your eyes. You have your mother's eyes." Harry looked down at his hands, feeling both proud and sad at the same time. "You also seem to have developed your father's weakness for pretty red heads." Remus commented casually, and he smiled slightly.

"She is quite pretty, isn't she?" Harry wondered aloud, and he felt himself beginning to slip into memories of Ginny from his first life. He remembered the warm sensation he got in the pit of his stomach every time she smiled at him, the feel of her soft lips pressed against his own, the warmth of her body alongside his. Remus cleared his throat, bringing Harry back to the present. "Sorry…" He muttered embarrassedly, but the old Marauder only rolled his eyes.

"Like father, like son." He murmured with an air of hopelessness that made Harry burst with pride. Usually when he was told of James Potter and his similarities, it was said by Snape and meant as an insult. But coming from Remus, it was the greatest compliment he could receive.

"Is that all?" Harry prompted, trying to get through the difficult part of their conversation as son as possible. Remus smiled at him, but his eyes didn't match his expression. They said something very important, but Harry couldn't quite read them.

"No, Harry I'm afraid not." Harry watched Remus' hand slide slowly into his patchy robes, then come back out holding his wand. For a millisecond, he'd thought Remus was going to attack him but all he'd done is point the wand in between the two of them at the table and muttered a spell under his breath with seemingly no effect. Harry stared at the man across from him in confusion.

"Just a precaution." Remus said answering his silent question. "Okay Harry, I need you to do exactly what I say. Do you trust me?" He asked Harry, who nodded. "We're being watched. Now laugh as though I've said something funny." Harry laughed, tilting his head back slightly with a hand on his stomach. What in the name of Merlin was going on here? He had just been having a completely normal conversation with Remus about his parents and now he'd been told someone was watching them? Who? Why?

"Remus, what's going on?" Harry asked, fake giggling a few more times for good measure. Remus shrugged his shoulders and tousled Harry's hair in a lighthearted way.

"Fix your hair and look like you're mad at me while I explain. You have to leave the Weasley's as soon as possible. So we're going to leave, pick something up from my house, and then meet up with someone who can help us. Do you understand?" Remus spoke this very fast, but with the appearance of telling Harry a rather interesting story. Harry nodded, hoping he didn't look as confused as he felt. "Alright, lets go." He stood and Harry followed suit, trying to walk as naturally as possible but still feeling stiff.

"Go collect your things, quick. And try not to draw too much attention to yourself." Remus whispered coarsely to him, then left to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry hurried up the stairs and into Ron's room that was luckily empty, and grabbed the Chocolate Frog card Ron had given him earlier that afternoon. He then went up a little further on the staircase and tiptoed down the hallway that leads to Percy's room. Percy had left his door slightly ajar, and Harry peeked into his room through the crack to find him asleep at his desk, his head resting on an open book and horn rimmed glasses askew.

Harry's heart thudded loudly in his chest as he slipped through the door, treading lightly over to where Scabbers cage sat. The patchy looking rat was asleep as well, and Harry tried his hardest not to disturb him as he pulled the metal hatch open and slowly reached his hand in, that he let hover above the rodent. Once he felt he was prepared to escape as quickly as possible from the scene of the crime, Harry scooped Scabbers up roughly and bolted as quietly as one can do so while stuffing the squealing rat in his pocket. He didn't look back to see if he'd woken Percy, and didn't slow down until he was almost to the bottom of the stairs.

"Take care of yourself, Remus." Harry heard Mr. Weasley say, and there was the sound of the front door shutting. Harry darted to the backdoor and slipped outside as quietly as possible. He then began to circle around to the front of The Burrow, where Remus was waiting looking edgy. He looked relieved at seeing Harry racing toward him from across the lawn, and began speed walking to meet him.

"Okay, grab on Ha-" Remus paused, staring strangely at Harry's squealing pocket.

"I'll explain later," Harry said, and he grabbed onto Remus' arm. "Lets go."


End file.
